


Letters to My Guardian

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, M/M, Post season nine, Sad Castiel, season nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 16:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1717280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has written letters to his so called "guardian angel" since he was just a child, but he never thought they reached anyone. That is, until he meets Castiel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters to My Guardian

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little one shot that I had to write after watching the finale!

It started gradually. 

At first, Dean barely realized he was doing it. Writing notes isn't exactly something a kid keeps track of. He began writing his tidbits right after his mother died. Sometimes it was just one word scrawled on a piece of paper he'd rounded up from school. Dean would quickly write his thought, tossing the paper in the wind. 

About a year later, when Sam was finally pulling together somewhat coherent sentences for the first time, he was still snatching paper from school. He'd take it home and stare at it with the upmost concentration and concern. Then, after hours of intense staring, he would simply write one defining word: "help". 

Days turned into weeks and weeks to months and years passed by in a flurry of blood, pain, and loss. Dean still wrote his letters, this time stashing them in the Impala's trunk, releasing them into the wind when nobody could see. It became a sort of routine that wasn't to be reckoned with. If he didn't write, he felt empty. 

Dean drove back to the hotel, exhausted. Sam had decided to walk to the diner down the street mumbling something akin to the word, "pie" and Dean definitely didn't argue with him when he was in that mood. The giving mood. 

The eldest Winchester had chosen to occupy his alone time with writing his letter for the day. He walked over to the farthest wall and flicked the light switch on. The old lightbulb on the ceiling buzzed lightly and Dean sighed, tossing his keys aside. 

"Is it too much to buy a damn lightbulb?" He hissed to no one. Dean's fingers quickly snatched a pen from the table and grabbed a note pad with the hotel label etched in gold at the top. He began to write:

Dear Guardian,

Heh, like the new name? I've written to you a thousand times, yet I don't know who you are and I doubt I ever will. So, I figured it only proper to call you Guardian. That's kinda ironic when you think about it. You're sorta like my silent guardian angel.

Yeah, angels. 

Load of crap. There's demons, hellhounds, poltergeists, and about every other evil bastard you can imagine, but no angels. No good guys. 

I thought I'd lost Sammy a couple of days ago. He… he died. But today I fixed it. I brought him back, but I also made a deal with a demon. 

One year is all I got, and yet I'm wasting my time writing to you. I just… I don't want to die.

If I said I wasn't scared of death, that'd be a lie because I'm frickin terrified. There's hell alright, but there ain't no heaven. 

God forbid I rot for all eternity. 

Help. 

Sincerely,   
Dean Winchester

Dean inspected his letter and, feeling satisfied with it, tucked it away under his pillow. 

~~~

A year came and went all too fast for Dean. Sam had been pissed when he'd found out what his brother had done, but he set it aside so he could spend time with him. They searched for a solution to Dean's "situation" far and wide, coming up short. There was no hope. 

"Sick him, boys." The sadistic voice cracked. Sam cried out in anguish as Dean fought off the hellish dogs. Dean felt his vision blur with pain and let himself be dragged to the floor. His guts were getting ripped out but he couldn't feel it. His body was numb; he was dead. 

Dead and headin' to hell in a hand basket. 

~~~

Upstairs—yes, Dean was wrong— Castiel stood before his brothers, young and helpless. Michael stepped forward as an image appeared in front of the fledgling. 

"Castiel, this is my future vessel, Dean Winchester. Your job is to protect him," he explained as a little boy took form in front of him. The boy squirmed and then scratched the word "help" on a piece of paper. Castiel's deep blue eyes scanned the paper, not fully understanding yet what "help" was supposed to mean. 

"He looks funny," Castiel observed, pressing his face to the screen. "He doesn't look like us."

"He's—" Gabriel shuddered dramatically, "—human." Michael thumped his brother's shoulder and frowned at him. Castiel had to learn to love the humans or Dean was doomed. 

Years passed very quickly in heaven and Castiel had found and taken to his vessel in a matter of days. That's when word got to him. 

Castiel walked into the gates swinging them wide open. 

"Michael? What is it?" He questioned his brother, who was obviously distressed. The older angel scowled and grabbed Castiel by his shoulders roughly. 

"Dean Winchester is in hell," Michael said. Castiel's eyes widened and he shook his head. He'd been watching Dean; how had he gone to hell? Brow furrowed, Castiel decided to protest. 

"No, no that's not right… I've watched over him all his life," Gabriel acted like he was slitting his throat with a quick finger motion and Michael shoved him to the side. Anger boiled in the archangel who boomed at Castiel. 

"You better get my vessel out of hell! Now!"

~~~

Castiel did much more than just get Dean Winchester out of hell, he created a bond. Going on four years, through trials and tribulations, Castiel had stayed loyal to Dean. His Dean. 

"You gave up your army for him Castiel, and now he's gone too," Metatron smirked victoriously. Pain crossed Castiel's face. No, how? Could Dean really die like this? With that god awful mark splayed on his arm? The angel refused to believe it, even though his mind taunted his with images of the hunter. 

\---

The trek back to the bunker was rough that evening. Castiel didn't take his car and his feet didn't seem like they could carry him any longer. Castiel frowned. He was dependent on Dean in his weak state but it used to be the other way around. His bottom lip quivered. The ground rushed up to meet the angel's face and all he could do was sob. 

"Dean! Help me!" He cried, falling in a heap on the ground. There he was in the middle of the road, crying. He finally lifted himself to his hands and knees as he screamed at the sky. 

"Why can't we be happy? He didn't deserve to die! Why?!" Castiel could feel god, wherever he was, and he scowled. 

"I HATE YOU, FATHER! HEAR ME?! I HATE YOU!" Veins popped in Castiel and it seemed as though he was fueled by hatred. 

"I got you back heaven," he whispered. "Now give me back my Dean."

The Winchester building came into view and Castiel walked in without knocking. It didn't matter, Sam wasn't in the mood to defend himself anyway. Somberly, the angel shuffled to the youngest brother. The only brother left. Sam didn't even have to look up.

"I heard you scream, Castiel," Sam murmured. "Don't hate god for this. Hate Metatron."

"Don't you get it? Or is your god damned skull too thick?" Castiel hissed. This was way out of character for him. Sam's eyes shot up as he eyed Castiel. 

"God has done nothing to stop this! He watched Dean die and I hate him for that! Dean didn't deserve this," Castiel paused. "I know… I know you're human. I know death's inevitable for you, but that wasn't inevitable. That was choice! I—" he stopped short, realization hitting him. He choked over the next few words. 

"I could have stopped it…" 

"No, Cas—"

"Don't! You know I could have," Castiel looked fiercely at Sam who hesitated, carefully picking his words. 

"Your grace is fading. No, you'd have killed yourself in the process," Sam stood and walked to Castiel putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

"Better me than him," Castiel looked up towards Dean's room. "Is…is he up there?" Sam nodded curtly and Castiel took careful steps toward the stairs. Each step seemed to groan under the angel's feet, and he couldn't help but feel like he'd wake Dean. Upon reaching the top of the steps, Castiel hesitated at the sound of a voice. 

"Crowley?" Castiel whispered to himself. Why the hell was he here? His eyes peeked in the room fiercely. "Crowley," he repeated with conviction. The demon king turned and… Dean sat… up…? 

"Cas," the husky voice croaked. It sounded like Dean but… black eyes? 

"No," Castiel whimpered, "no, no, no!" Dean grinned, happy to see the angel. Castiel watched Dean in horror who tilted his head in confusion; genuine confusion. 

"What's wrong Castiel?" The dull colors of the room seemed to seep to the floor, giving Castiel a sense of lonesome fear. The angel flicked his eyes to Dean. Solid black met his gaze and Castiel quickly turned away. Dean looked into their mirror and gasped. 

"I'm a—" he touched his face gently. "I'm a demon," he spun to Castiel with wide, dark eyes. "I'm a monster." 

No matter if he wished it or not, there was no amount of comfort that Castiel could give Dean in that moment; he couldn't ever offer comfort for something like that. After Dean woke up, he left the bunker— blade in hand— as fast as he could. Distraught, Castiel stayed in Dean's room patiently awaiting return. The days were long and boring, and the angel took to looking through the hunter's— demon's —things. Castiel trifled through drawers of papers and stared in awe at a box with the words "To Guardian". His breath hitched in his throat and it seemed as though the world stopped for a moment. 

"Oh, Dean…" he whispered, gently rubbing over the box's lid. He popped the top off and eagerly pawed at the letters, Dean's handwriting passing through his mind in a flurry. He grabbed onto one. These, he had never seen; the other letters Dean had let blow in the wind each reached Castiel. Tears dripped onto the wrinkled paper as Cas read. 

Dear… Castiel,

I'm assuming it's you I've been writing to because, man, you heard me. You pulled me outa hell and I don't think I can ever repay you for that. 

You're a strange little angel, you know that? You're so uptight and… I can't believe I'm saying it. Why? Because I've always been straight but now, I'm seriously questioning that. You're frickin adorable. 

Sincerely,  
Dean Winchester. 

Castiel smiled. He folded the letter and shoved it in his pocket for safety. 

"Cas!" Sam cried, making the angel tear out of the room. He thudded down the stairs, angel blade in hand, prepared to face the intruder. Castiel was ready to see a scene of battle and turmoil, but what he found was very different. 

It was—

"D-Dean...?" He whispered. Green eyes flicked over to him and he was met with a sad expression. Dean nodded and Castiel couldn't help himself. He sprinted down the remainder of the steps and leaped into Dean's arms. He couldn't help the tears that trailed down his face. Castiel pulled away and dried Dean's tears with a swipe of his thumbs. 

"I heard you," Castiel smiled. Dean looked confused and Castiel tugged the letter from his pocket. He showed it to Dean. 

"You… you did?!" He gasped as Castiel pushed his lips against his. 

"Of course," he beamed at Dean and tilted his head with a smile. "I think you're adorable to."


End file.
